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“Apparently she won’t stop rambling about unicorns to anyone who will listen in between demanding they not sedate her until you’re there,” the guy states absentmindedly as he too becomes enraptured by the fire now billowing out the windows and crawling up the exterior walls.

“The unicorn stuff is normal for her,” I say on a huff. Turning back to the flames now swallowing the entirety of the cabin, I suck in a breath and raise both middle fingers. “She won, motherfucker. See you in hell,” I whisper.

Turning on my heels, I push through the stiffness in my muscles and stride in the direction of the single black SUV that will take me to the only thing that matters in this world.

Her.

* * *

My lids feel like they’re glued shut as I attempt to open my eyes. Finally forcing them open, I blink past the haze covering my vision.

A rhythmic beeping close by reaches my ears first. A sharp antiseptic scent floods my nose, and the white walls and various machines come into view as my vision sharpens. Soft material cushions my cheek. A steady heartbeat beneath my ear soothes the unexpected rush of adrenaline that flashed through my system upon waking up in an unfamiliar room.

“Go back to sleep, Benson,” a familiar voice whispers from somewhere in the dark room. “You’re both safe.”

The grogginess of too little sleep tugs at my lids, making them too heavy to keep open.

I tighten my hold, molding my body even tighter around the soft one in my arms, and give in to sleep once again.

* * *

Lips parted, chest rising and falling in a smooth and steady cadence, Randi sleeps peacefully. Unable to stop myself, I draw closer to her bed, needing a simple touch, skin to skin, to remind me she’s safe—alive.

With a featherlight touch, I trace along her healing lips and purple-and-blue bruised jaw. For two days, they’ve kept her under observation. Mostly sedated due to her constant arguing about being fine and needing to get back to work. But not today. No, today she gets to go home. She’ll return to the White House and finally see Taeler and that sweet grandbaby.

Which means I get to leave too, even though I could’ve gone home anytime I wanted. No doctor was holding me back from leaving. But she was. No way could I leave her here alone. I might never leave her alone again. If she thought I was overbearing before, she’s in for a rude awakening starting the moment we get back to the White House.

Now I know what it’s like to nearly lose your soul mate. The very person who encourages and challenges you. The very reason your heart continues to beat and who pushes the encroaching darkness away. I’ll never allow harm to come to her again.

A twitch of movement behind her closed lids snags my attention. Beside the bed, the heart rate monitor beeps increase, the rapid pace ramping up my own pulse. A sharp, scared whimper whispers past her dry lips.

Another nightmare.

This isn’t the first she’s had, and I suspect it won’t be the last with all she went through in those horrible hours we searched for her while she was alone with those fuckers. I made Shawn detail every bit of pain they inflicted. What he and Ponder did before Tank and I arrived. Then I delivered it all right back to him. It won’t stop the fear from slipping into her dreams or keep her from future panic attacks, but it might help ease the anger and resentment I know will brew within her over the next few months.

Leaning forward, I press a kiss to her forehead and tighten the hold on her hand.

Helpless. This is what I feel as she struggles in her dreamscape. The only place I can’t help her. I could wake her up, but for the first time since she was admitted, the sleep she’s experiencing now is on her own, not drug induced, and I’m not sure if I should interrupt even if every instinct screams at me to shake her awake.

A breathy plea moves through my hair, brushing against my ear.

Dipping lower, I place my lips over hers. “I’m here, Mess. I’m here.”

The twitching settles, and her rapid breaths ease. I watch as those long dark lashes flutter open. She doesn’t flinch at finding me hovering so close, our noses almost touching. Instead she does the unexpected.

Her cold fingers slip up the exposed portion of my bicep, over my shoulder, and gently clasp the back of my neck, sealing our lips together with a desperation that scours my soul and rips through my heart.

Elbow braced on the bed, I lean into the kiss, giving her everything I’ve held back the past couple of days. Pouring my sorrow and anger into this one binding kiss. Her tongue slides against my own, lips parted, opening herself to me. Those chipped and broken nails scrape along my scalp.

It’s a desperate kiss, displaying how badly we need each other. I can’t touch enough of her, and the way her other hand plays along my taut back muscles tells me she feels the same. We need this. A reminder of our physical connection. A release of the pent-up emotions and frustrations that sit brimming at the surface, ready to erupt.

My breath shudders with the flood of need, making me edgy and harder than a damn rock. I tear my hungry lips from hers, shifting to kiss down the column of her neck, each fading fingerprint bruise. My tongue trails lower, savoring every inch of her I get to taste. From one side to the other, I run the tip along her collarbone, nibbling and sucking the delicate skin.

Her fingers tighten in my hair, tugging at my scalp. With a yank, she rips my face up to meet hers. Breaths labored, dick straining against the zipper of my jeans, I press against the mattress, hovering above her and meeting those lust-filled hazel eyes.

“Remind me,” she breathes.

“Remind you of what, Mess?”